


Critical Levels

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crossdressing, Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's bad enough that Dave is objectively hot, and even worse that he looks gorgeous in that dress, but the icing on the fucked-up cake is how turned on you are by him trying desperately not to piss himself in the car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical Levels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meoqie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meoqie/gifts).



> Written as a birthday present for my lovely friend Cyan. <3
> 
>  
> 
> _Thank you to stunrunner for editing. Any mistakes which remain are mine alone._

To your discomfort, intellectually as well as practically, your attraction to your brother is reaching critical levels currently. You religiously keep your face fixed on the road as you drive down the highway, willing yourself not to be distracted by the awful, alluring trifecta of his current state.

First and foremost, there’s the constant, stubborn fact that Dave is hot. He's got great hair and legs that just won’t quit. You’re as tall as he is, and no doubt will surpass him by a couple of inches once you finally stop growing, but that doesn’t bother you. You like that he's about your size, similar in build but him more on the lanky side while you're more noticeably muscled. His personality adds the final glittering touch, clever and yet impenetrably guarded with layer upon layer of irony.

Secondly, Dave is currently wearing a dress. You don't have A Thing for crossdressing, per se, but Dave looks stunning in whatever he wears – and something that bares more of him, all the better. The halter top leaves his shoulders bare, his collarbones naked and alluring. The subtle curve of his waist and his tight ass looked perfect earlier in the evening, when he was still strutting proudly on stiletto heels – heels which he's now tearing off in a desperate attempt to focus on something other than his current acutely-uncomfortable state no doubt.

This of course brings you to the third, newest, and perhaps most perverse element: Dave is visibly experiencing quickly-worsening bladder desperation after unwisely neglecting to visit the bathroom before departing the party. He's been bouncing his legs up and down for the past fifteen minutes, and has asked you no less than four times why the hell there's construction on the highway ( _Because it's 2 a.m., and road work usually takes place during the times of least traffic flow_ , you told him until he snapped that _Yeah, I goddamn know. It's a rhetorical question, dumbass_ ). As soon as you pass the last construction worker and the road returns to its full three lanes, Dave reaches down to squeeze his crotch through the fabric of his thin red dress.

“We're only about ten minutes away from home, assuming no further traffic,” you tell him. You watch the lights of the city in the corners of your eyes as the yellow markings of the blacktop zip by, swallowed under the front of the Mercedes. Ordinarily, you'd push the speed limit more than the mere 70 mph you're at right now, but a sick part of you wants to make Dave wait longer.

“It'd only be eight minutes if you'd hurry the fuck up,” he gripes.

“If I go any faster, we'd be at risk of getting pulled over by a cop, which would seriously delay you getting to the restroom in time. You're a grown-ass man, can't you hold it those extra two minutes?”

“I've been holding it for hours. My bladder's as tight as a drawn bowstring, and it's about to snap if I don't get out really damn soon.”

“You should've gone before we left. Again, I thought you were a grown man so I didn't have to remind you like a toddler to go potty before getting in the car. Anyway, there's nowhere to pull over, and unlike some people, I keep my car immaculate, so we don't have any empty cups for you to piss in.”

“Slovenliness is underrated. If you were more of a typical teenager, I could just grab an empty Big Gulp from your cluttered back seat and refill it faster than any soda fountain. Fuck.” _I need to go,_ goes unspoken, but the single expletive Dave is brimming with all the desperation needed to make that sentiment crystal clear. It's enough to make your cock stir, and you have to refocus your attention to not getting an erection, which has been a struggle since you got in the car. Then again, at this point, Dave probably wouldn't even notice.

His legs are pressed together now, bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxious and unable to sit still as he stares out the windshield with a sour undertone to his attempted neutral look. His shades hide a lot, but they can't disguise the subtle hint of pink rising on his cheeks.

To his credit, Dave makes it those ten minutes. To your credit, you also make it, though your struggle is on completely disguising your unprecedented level of arousal while safely driving the car home. You only falter once, when you hear him mutter _“Shit!”_ \- you can't help but glance over. Unfortunately, if he leaked, it doesn't make a noticeable wet patch on the front of his dress. You immediately return your eyes to the road. You're one sick bastard.

Dave unfastens his seat belt as you pull into the driveway, leaping out of the car before you've even come to a complete stop and making a beeline for the door. You turn off the engine and follow quickly behind him, your lips curling as you remember, as he is simultaneously recalling with a plethora of curses, that his keys are with you. He didn't want to carry a handbag, so he left all his practical belongings in your care.

“Hurry up and get the door open already,” Dave demands. Instead, you slow down, which prompts Dave to bend over with a wince to grab the edge of his skirt. “No, fuck this. I'm just gonna pee in the bushes. You're way too slow.”

“Hold your horses. No need to give our poor innocent neighbors a free show of your firehose. Just let me get the key.”

“Like hell I'm waiting longer. What're you gonna do to stop me?”

You snatch Dave's hand away and grab his other wrist as well before he can react. He struggles and manages to free one arm, but you fight offensively, slamming him back against the still-closed front door.

For a fraction of a second, you brace yourself for his counterattack, until you notice Dave's steel look melt away as he blushes and turns his face away. He shoves his freed hand between his legs and crosses his ankles, but looking down you see the edges of a damp patch forming right at his crotch. Judging by the fact that it's expanding as you watch, and that Dave's madly squeezing his legs together without an iota of dignity left, he's not able to stop. Moments later you can see liquid streaming down his calves, glistening yellow against his pale skin under the harsh porch light.

You can feel your face light up with excitement and arousal, burning nearly as hot as his, distantly aware that the erection you're finally unable to suppress is completely and utterly inappropriate, to put it lightly. Dave is resolutely not looking at you, biting his lip, and pissing all over himself in front of you. You can see his arm twitch as he squeezes himself harder, but he's completely unable to stop the flow. A puddle's forming at his bare feet now, and you actually release his hand and step back to avoid it.

Your movement seems to pull Dave back to the moment and he snaps his head towards you.

“You enjoying the show?” he asks dryly, and you bite your tongue because you _are_ but he's obviously not _serious_ and damn, that's a freaky suggestion even for him, even done ironically. But you're not gonna let him one-up you.

“Yeah, this is some first class live omorashi shit. 8/10, high quality but lacking in panty shots.”

“Oh, sorry, let me fix that for you.”

It's only by pure force of will and years of practice at the Strider perpetual-blasé attitude that your jaw doesn't drop as Dave actually lifts his skirt and lets you see the sheer formerly-white fabric that's now saturated with his piss. His dick is clearly visible under it, still steadily urinating. Some of the piss runs down his smooth, freshly-shaven legs; the rest spills through his saturated panties onto the ground below him.

“Is that better?” asks Dave when you don't respond with anything but a fascinated stare that must be nothing short of leering.

“Yeah, it'll do,” you say, because at this point, the only imaginable move is to play along to something you're actually dead serious about. Your cock is so hard it hurts, and you feel like the image of _your older brother in a dress wetting himself_ is burned into your eyes for all eternity and you should be horrified but mostly you're just horny as hell.

The stream finally dies off and you don't move until Dave, calm as iced cucumber soda, says, “Keys?”. You grab them out of your pocket and toss them to him.

“I'll be right back; I forgot something in the car.”

You go back to the car alright, climbing into the backseat and pulling your raging erection out the moment you slam the door behind you. You stroke yourself viciously, the sound of Dave's piss hitting concrete still ringing in your ears, the visual of his soft cock nestled behind piss-soaked panties vivid in your mind. In less than thirty seconds, you're hoarsely shouting something that you really hope doesn't sound too much like his name. In thirty-five seconds, you're slumped back against the seat, cum slick on your hand and spattered on the upholstery below you. In fifty seconds, the euphoria has started to crash down against the rocky shores of reality again, and the gravity of the awkwardness of this entire situation hits you like a hurricane.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [gendersquare.tumblr.com](http://gendersquare.tumblr.com).
> 
> There's [art of this fic](http://gendersquare.tumblr.com/post/94367985097/alphaghost-anonymous-said-omg-that-fic) now. Thank you, alphaghost!


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